The Riddle
by HereWithoutFear
Summary: Through an era of madness, the Organization XIII manages to remain bound together...that is, until a certain Cloaked Schemer falls for another member of his team, and the idea of emotion is once again sought after to unthinkable costs. [Larxion] [Feare]
1. Spontaneous Chaos

_A/N: My first fic here, so be nice. Updates will be, like, every other day. Central pairing is Larxion. Soooo not going to be a oneshot. Might be some yaoi, too, since we've gotta squeeze in AkuRoku for the sake of fandom and myself. Anyways…enjoy!_

The Nobody's emotionless violet eyes were lowered, skimming a page of the leather-bound volume in his hands. A pallid white finger reached out and ever-so-gently lipped the right-hand page; with one swift gesture he had moved to the next, and was already repeating the process.

Zexion had always been quite a fast reader. It came from residing in the Castle's basement; "that filthy damp frog-hole", as his sadistic fellow Organization member, Larxene, would put it. An eternity spend poring over books in near-pitch darkness would likely better your peripheral – it was all an unintentional practice, as there was nothing better to do.

He, for one, enjoyed the space below Castle Oblivion – a world away from the fanatical, flirtatious, chaotic team above him. Their name was a misnomer; not one member could claim to have achieved 'organization' fully and completely for the horde of Nobodies. There was always madness somewhere in the bland white Castle.

Out of nowhere, the Cloaked Schemer felt a presence beside him and was jolted from his thoughts. If he had possessed a heart, it would have jumped in his chest; as it were, his limbs grew icy cold from shock and revelation. Then a certain rare aroma met his nose – one of toxic forbiddance and sweet desert rain…

_Larxene._

"It's fucking freezing up there," she grumbled, settling herself into the cushioned arm of the ratty sofa that was Zexion's pitiful excuse for a bed – no real matter, for he rarely slept. The Schemer relaxed; unlike many of the Organization's other members, he did not fear the cold, ruthless Larxene.

"What are you doing here?"

His words were harsh – but then again, Zexion was never one for kindness. And there was nothing about his inhospitable monotone that could cause the Savage Nymph any disturbance of emotions. "Did you not just hear me, emo-fag? The heat's broken. I'm not moving."

Zexion rolled his eyes, then focused back on his book. "Didn't say you had to."

Larxene sat in silence, obviously trying to produce a comeback of equal nonchalance and attitude. Her companion paid little, if no attention.

"Why – ?" she began, then stopped, obviously thinking better of it. Her presence annoyed Zexion. Every time she leaned closer, he felt a faint ache in his chest, like something tearing at the inner flesh but from miles away, where he could hardly feel it. The Nobody brushed it off as nothing more than some kind of alien allergy.

Eventually the pain intensified slightly, and he found himself broken from the silent spell woven over his reading. He turned to her, blue-grey hair framing and interrupting his face, half-hiding the irritated scowl. "If you're going to be down her, could you at least find some way to occupy yourself?" Zexion broke out, glaring at her.

Larxene beamed in amusement. "Most certainly, your Superiority," she purred, exaggeratedly lowering her head in a mock bow. With a sudden flash, her spectral hand-knives were out, and before Zexion could stop her, had left her slim golden hands and buried themselves deep in the basement wall opposite the two of them…_after _smashing two of Vexen's potion-filled vials.

For a split second the red and green substances trickled beyond the limit of the broken glass, before running and mixing together, like salt into a wound. There was a faint hissing and the premontion of an explosion.

"Get _down,_ faghead!" Larxene cried; though her words were expected, her tone was unusual, and as she grabbed Zexion's hand and pulled him downward, out of the path of atomic glass, he felt that faint irritation in his chest again, stronger than before.

If they managed to survive the night, it would be quite a long night indeed.

_A/N: Ugh. Know that was terrible. Sorry. This will turn into something, I promise! That would be a totally crappy oneshot, and this place needs more Larxion anyway, so I might as well give it a plot. Review, and you'll get more. Don't review, and…uh…you'll prolly get more anyway, since I have no life._


	2. At A Loss For Words

The aftershock consisted of nothing physical. As Larxene and Zexion raised tenuous faces, they felt the effect of Vexen's 'experiment' combined with Larxene's idea of entertainment wearing off.

Several things happened in the next instant.

First, Zexion realized that Larxene was still tightly clutching his hand.

Second, he realized that not only did this fact not annoy him, but he actually enjoyed the feeling of their palms against one another. It was though they fitted perfectly, carved in some ethereal way to link the remnants of their souls through the touch of two very different people. The pain returned to his chest; Zexion grimaced but did not let go, held captive by some force beyond his power of reasoning.

Third, and finally, several figures stepped through a portal into the dank underground room, their familiar voices tripping and churning over one another through the darkness:

"What was that? My chemicals – are they all right?"

"OUCH! Shit, Axel, that was my foot!"

"Who's down here? Who set off the explosion!"

"Heh…sorry, Roxy-kun. Can't see a thing in this lighting."

"Don't call me Roxy!"

"Zexion? Are you down here?"

"I think it's him, Superior. I feel his hair down here…wait…"

"THAT'S MY ASS, YOU IDIOT! Someone get this creep off me!"

"AXEL! You're on my foot again!"

"Saïx-puppy! There you are! Isn't this fun?"

"I'M NOT A FUCKIN' PUPPY, DEMYX!"

"My chemicals…"

"Hang on, hang on! I've found the light switch."

…And with that, the lights flickered on to reveal a most amusing scenario: Axel on the floor, sprawled out over a pained-looking Roxas' legs; Xemnas, Xaldin and Luxord collapsed on top of one another, with a very entertained-looking Xigbar planting one foot on the heap; a grinning Marluxia completely intertwined with the uncomfortable Vexen, in terms of legs; Lexaeus, sensible as always, hand on the light switch he had just spoken of; and in the midst of it all, Demyx, leaning on his sitar with his arms around Saïx.

After regaining her balance, Larxene took one half-second look and began to laugh insanely. She was followed by nearly every member of the Organization; with the exception of the still-silent Zexion, crouched behind the sofa.

"Damn, Larxene!" remarked Axel, catching his breath as he lent his friend a steady hand to keep her balance. "What were you doing down here?"

"Is nobody else freezing up there? That rain's coming down fucking hard!" she retorted. Axel laughed, then wrapped two long arms around her. Roxas, Zexion noticed, looked furious; for some reason, Zexion empathized with Number XIII in that moment. He could almost say he was feeling jealous, but of course that would be ridiculous. There was no such thing as emotions for Nobodies. He knew that well.

"You missed my fire, Larx," Axel murmured into the Nymph's ear, loud enough, however, for the rest of the group to hear. Zexion was surprised at Axel's straightforwardness. If he wanted to flirt with Larxene – ugh, why was the idea of flirting with Larxene bothering him so much? – wouldn't he want to do that in private?

Xemnas, quite suddenly, got to his feet. "Let's go back up to the Mainstream Chamber. Axel's fire awaits us."

Axel looked prideful, not unusual for someone of his character. "You coming, Roxy-kun?" he inquired hopefully.

The smaller boy's eyes were turned away from him, his face flushed red with anger. "I'll be up in a while," he replied coldly. The pyro's expression changed to one of confusion, then low-key remorse. "All right. See ya later, I guess."

They trudged out of the room until only Roxas remained, hugging his knees to his chest and glaring down at the floor. Zexion managed to swallow down his own mysterious anger; slowly he moved towards the tiny blond boy.

"He, uh, likes you."

Roxas looked up, startled. "What? How did you get down here?"

"Er…I live here."

The Key of Destiny looked away again. "Right. The emo one. Lives in basement. Got it." In his mind, Zexion rolled his eyes. That idiot had been here for ages; how long could it take him to learn who everyone was? Then, thinking about it, he realized he had never really interacted with the kid. At all. He had no reason to remember Zexion.

The Schemer cleared his throat. "I was just saying…Axel really likes you. Like, uh, how can I say this? Not just the friend way. The gay way." He had expected Roxas to look shocked, indignant even, but not…_pleased._

Zexion continued without another thought. "There's no way he'd choose Larxene over you, Roxas. They're just friends."

But could he believe his own words?

---

_Next Chapter: Talking with Demyx, and something new about Axel and Larxene._


End file.
